Catharsis
by MikazukiNika
Summary: Catharsis - noun - the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions. A collection of short, angsty, page-length (about 250 words) headcanon scenes/thoughts. Spoilers for the manga within. Melizabeth, Zelda, and more.
1. Jealousy

_Jealousy._

"I'm… jealous of you."

The goddess was staring into the mesmerizing flames of the fire they set up for themselves. Hearing this, the blonde raised his head, neither too fast nor too slow, to look into her face. His gaze consisted of the same endless pools of calm, solid blackness, but she always likened them to the blacks of the earth. Dull fulgurites, those dark rocks struck by lightning, when calm; shining sheets of obsidian when full of fire; the black of the deepest sands when deadly.

He was silent, allowing her to continue when she was ready. It was a familiar scene, one that he found himself in too many times if he was being truthful, but he could no longer muster the will to stop this – whatever _this_ was – anymore.

To his surprise, and she always seemed to surprise him, her Aegean blue eyes glossed over with unshed tears and her frail arms quaked gently as she clasped her hands in her lap.

Something in his chest lurched when she looked up and met his gaze with a _smile of all things, isn't she sad?_

"You demons can live so freely."


	2. Promise

_Promise._

 _"I promise I'll come back for you."_

When she awoke from the seal and he wasn't there, she knew.

The only thing that would keep him from breaking his promise was death. He had to have died and left her behind to live out her miserable life alone. And strangely enough, she felt almost nothing.

She already knew, somehow. Deep down.

So she walked, as if still in a dream, wondering if there was any one moment where she felt his existence perish from this world in her deep slumber beneath the flowing currents of time. When had she known? Was it in the beginning? A hundred years ago? Two hundred? A thousand? Or did she know the moment the words tumbled from his lips in his desperation to convince her?

Or perhaps the ever-present magic he had enveloped her and her race in was a blind comfort to her, shielding her from the truth like a childhood blanket.

 _Do you know what all children do when they are terrified?_ He had asked her. They were both amused that he would know anything about children.

 _They sleep._

And so Gelda sought out the best sleep she could, terrified of living a life without him.

"Please, kill me."

 _Zeldris._


	3. Love and Hate

_The Demon and Doll Agree (Love and Hate)._

Sometimes… he _hated_ her.

Those were ugly nights. He drank and drank, never ale – it wasn't enough – but hard liquor, delighting in the flames that licked down his chest and pooled into molten lava at the bottom of his stomach. The lightheadedness was a gift, the numbness a joy.

 _She made me into this._

The dark life was better. Kill or be killed. Warm blood on rough hands. Screams that interwove with one another and created gorgeous songs. Destroy mindlessly. Feel and know nothing.

So every time she leaves him, he hates her a little more. Very nearly wants to choke the life out of her, then do the same to himself. Because every time he relives their meetings and their happiness, he loves her a little more. His heart swells with joy, only to wither into an ugly black and be destroyed.

 _She will never love me as much as I love her._

And it was true. Because she couldn't possibly have anything on his 3000 years of love. She would always, _always_ run out of time.

On those nights, he found himself agreeing with Gowther of all people.

 _"_ _If having a heart hurts this much, then I don't need one."_

And so he slams down another shot, hating her a little more with each one.


	4. Morning, Waiting

_Morning, Waiting._

In the quiet mornings, as the sun rose slowly over the horizon in a glorious explosion of pinks, violets, blues, and yellows, she would look out the window.

She was waiting. For what, even _she_ didn't know.

But the castle would be silent and cold, not quite enough of the servants awake to start the fires and warm the floors, and she would wait. In a way, she knew she would be waiting her entire life for something she couldn't explain or understand, but it was ingrained into her very being, her very soul.

 _Wait._

And so she did.

She stopped watching the sun rise somewhere along the line. Perhaps it was when he accepted her resolve to fight. Perhaps it was that very first day they spent together, at the very beginning of their journey. Somehow, she stopped counting the days that passed in waiting. It didn't make sense, because she would have never stopped if she were by herse - ah.

So that's why.

She _wasn't_ by herself anymore.

"Good morning, Elizabeth!" His cheery voice and excited eyes greeted. She could feel his urge to touch her even with the ropes binding him.

Elizabeth sat up, realizing the sun was quite high in the sky already, and that its rays had grown stronger, spreading across the bed sheets and dancing in his messy hair.

And in her shock she understood – _he_ was what she was waiting for.


	5. Chains

_Chains._

"Even if you were to die right now, I would keep my promise to you."

She didn't realize those words were binding chains until it was too late. Cool and biting, tainted in three thousand years' worth of rust, those chains coiled around him, choking the life out of him and pulling him back towards _her._ They pressed into and tore at his skin like angry snakes, yet he never fought against or hated them.

He took _comfort_ in their presence.

And she would regret binding him to herself in such a way for the rest of her days. Because it would always lead to _this:_

"The only thing I have left… is the promise I've made with you."

By her own will, she bound him. By her own will, she repeatedly forced him into this position, blind and ignorant, naïve and stubborn, never truly seeing his pain or his reality. And try as he might, he couldn't hate her for it.

He couldn't love her for it either.

"I know it for sure, too! That all 106 Elizabeths… and me as the Princess of Liones… every time, I fell in love with you through my own will…!"

Even as he heard the strain in her breathless voice, felt the air moving by his ear as she embraced him and the vibrations in her throat, even as her will called to him in that sweet, sweet voice, he felt nothing.

He felt… nothing.


	6. Romeo and Juliet

_Romeo and Juliet... in a Certain, Real-Life Conversation. AKA An Otaku Trying to Convince a Normie to Watch Anime..._

"It's where a man, a demon, who lived for three thousand years, watches over this girl. Every time he gets close to her, the love of his life, just when things are going in the direction they both want it to, she dies within three days and is reincarnated. Over and over again. He's seen it happen 106 times."

"What the-? Then they're not meant to be together."

Bitch, what the fuck?

Not meant to be together?

 _I think the fuck not._

"Nope, they're definitely soulmates. It's not their fault. I said "three days," right? Their parents _cursed them_ so they couldn't be together. They did nothing wrong. Everything that happened them was just because their parents didn't wanna see them together. Sound familiar?"

"Huh?"

"It's _Romeo and Juliet_ , girl, damn."

"Oh."

"Except _better."_


	7. Best Friends

_Best Friends._

When he was told that there was someone else with eternal life in the world, he couldn't stop the wonder that spiked and flowed in his veins. He needed to know. Who was this person? Were they really immortal? Could they maybe even… understand?

Recruiting Ban for the Seven Deadly Sins was one of the best decisions of his entire life, and simultaneously, one of the worst.

Because it was painful. "Eternal life" was different from "Immortality." Ban never died and saw the other side, like him. Once he learned this, there was no way he was going to divulge his entire life story to Ban. No, his baggage was his own to keep, his sin his own to shoulder.

From there, it only got worse. His best friend was somehow in the same situation as himself. His only want in life, his only reason for living, was to bring the woman he loved back into the world and be together with her… like him.

But it didn't come crashing down until he was dead, fighting, and suddenly breathing the familiar air of the Boar's Hat again. It didn't, until Fraudrin was dead by his own hands and Ban was standing there… looking at him.

Ban was _always_ looking at him. He was _always_ too close. _Always_ the person who knew something was wrong before anyone else. They were their own kind of _always_ too.

And as they stood there in the aftermath of the tragedy – _revenge_ – locking the same, immortalized gazes, Meliodas realized with a very sudden and cold fear that he didn't understand what that look on his best friend's face, that look in his best friend's eyes, was.

Not anymore.


	8. Love is Boring

Love is boring.

The truth is, being in love is boring.

There was no other lesson he learned more easily, and no other reality robbed of him so cruelly.

Tea in a plain, white cup next to a piping hot breakfast. The clatter of the picture frames on the wall when the door slammed. A familiar tapping on glass windows every evening after a hunt for shiny objects. Old yellow curtains, blue vase, flowers. The scent of wood and spices. The comforting smell of the bedsheets after a long day. Linens folded nicely in a basket. Uniforms swaying in the wind, on the clothesline. Soft notes being hummed carelessly by a sweet voice. A good-bye kiss at the door.

Sunset pink hair. Day-time blue eyes.

Being in love means there's nothing to do. Passion fades at the drop of a hat, especially to a being over 3000 years old. Happiness is like a fleeting glimpse at something mythical in the corner of your eye – you're never quite sure that it was really there. Sadness, despair, anger – overrun by a smile and seemingly depthless warmth. Feelings die and resurrect – always fleeting. Being in love means there's nothing to do… except love.

One day at a time. There for _each other_ , not for each other's entertainment. Equality, with responsibility of yourself belonging to… yourself, but nevertheless picking each other up after falling. Every single moment – happy sad special desperate warm cold _normal_ – is precious.

Love is boring.

But it's also a _choice_.

How could he _not choose_ to cling to her - to boredom?


	9. Stars

_Stars._ **  
**

Her head rested peacefully in the crook of his shoulder, her breathing falling into a gentle pace alongside his own. And for a moment, they simply existed next to each other. With each other. _For_ each other.

The night was comfortably cool, with a sweet breeze that ran across their skin teasingly. In the depths of his imagination, some part of him that was still a child could hear wind fairies laughing. He turned his attention to the space above. The sky was clear, speckled with glittering stars that winked at them playfully, almost as though daring the two of them to join them. They sat, legs hanging over the castle's edge, nestled against one another, gazing at the sky above.

He didn't speak until she did.

"Sometimes," Her voice, though breaking the silence, did not surprise him. It was melodic, as though it belonged here in this scenery. "I wish we had never met."

His hearts nearly seized in his chest. He turned his head to see her face, and immediately had his breath stolen away from him once more.

Gelda's upper lip pinched her mouth closed, quivering in a way he hadn't seen from her before. Her platinum hair was tucked away behind her head as usual, but a few strands had fallen over her face gently. Crystal tears slipped down her porcelain cheeks, now stained pink. Her lashes seemed even fuller, darker, whilst holding her tears. Her brows, usually smooth and calm, were scrunched together, signaling her distress. And her eyes… had captured the stars themselves within them.

"I never wanted to know a love this strong."


End file.
